The "C" Word,
as it relates to social writing and dopamine addiction
I’ve never liked the word content. It started popping up around fifteen years ago. People on the internet were posting things, making videos, blog posts, art, and the rest, and all of it was simply called content. The contents of the internet.
We could pretend that Mozart created content. Picasso. Kurosawa. Shakespear. Kojima.
But did they? I don’t know.
Content, in my puny little brain, suggests filling a gap with any ol’ garbage for some other purpose. You build a sandcastle. The sand you’re shoveling into the pail is content for the pail. Eventually, you turn it over and you’ve got everything you’ve shoveled in there in a nice little compact form. None of the individual grains matter. One could be substituted with another with no effect.
Is the sandcastle your magnum opus—the thing you’ve been working your entire life to achieve—the culmination of all training and experience? In that case, the content would matter. But what if the pail worth of dirt is simply your life. At the end you turn it over to see what you’ve achieved. It’s really nothing. Just a collection of content, barely holding its shape.
Is any of this deep? No, it’s just content.
In the “good old days,” tv shows weren’t made because people had incredible ideas and producers were jumping at the chance to make them into visual feasts. No. A new medium had been invented, and advertisers wanted to make use of it. Shows filled gaps between advertisements. Shows were even interrupted, and the characters themselves gave the advertisement. I’m looking at you, Andy Griffith. Soap operas are called soap operas because soap companies made them happen. Women will watch endless dramas. Women use soap to clean their family’s laundry, dishes, bodies, etc. Woman need to convince their husbands to buy our soap.
Writing publicly
You may have heard of it, but if you haven’t, there’s a sub-section or group or whatever the hell on youtube called authortube. These people are writers who also make videos about their writing process, struggles, successes, and lifestyle. I’m one of them.
Every week or two, they put out a video talking about what it’s like to be a writer. In some cases, dozens, in others, tens of thousands of people watch these videos, to support the writer, or look for guidance in their own journey. It’s a community. Much like here, on Substack.
The interesting part is that, for the advice-related channels, that advice should be finite. At a certain point, you’ve said everything there is to say, and it’s time to simply stop and let the audience absorb the information, test it, use it to better themselves—much like encyclopedias back in the day (Is this an old man rant? Yes, it is. Shut up). But it never stops. The videos don’t stop.
Why? Because it’s not about providing information, it’s about dopamine and remaining top of mind—possibly one or the other, as opposed to both.
Advice
For the advice people out there, they want to be seen as an authority on a subject—getting a literary agent, perfecting your craft, separating yourself from the non-literary pablum. What’s the goal? To sell their services as coaches or dev editors or whatever, and stay top of mind. The idea being that they have to continuously create content, because there are always new people coming in thinking that they want to be writers, and since new people won’t look at channels that haven’t been active in ten years (because everything that needed to be said has already been said), the creators who are trying to sell their services need to stay relevant and produce content regularly. It doesn’t matter what it is. Just content.
Authors
There are a ton of authors out there. Youthing, Instawhatever, Tiking Clock. Authors all want to (and are told to) build a following—people who are excited by their journey and the prospect of release. People who will buy their product. Same as the service providers. There’s nothing wrong with that. The idea is to see that it’s the same thing.
So, authors, trying to stay top of mind, produce endless content, whether it says anything relevant or not. IG and TT are bloody awful. Authors are on there. They’re making stupid faces while text is over them saying some bullshit about their upcoming or recently published book. And then you watch a youtube video of theirs where they talk about how annoying it is to do those videos and “oh, I’ll just make another hundred tiktoks in advance so I can get back to writing tomorrow.” That’s not a real quote, but it’s a vibe. People are purposefully creating garbage, that wastes everyone’s time, including their own, in order to stay top of mind.
Consumers
How does a consumer of this content cope, knowing that everything they are consuming is inherently worthless? It’s all back to Orwell, my friends. Double-think.
I know that this video on this writer’s lifestyle was only created in order to promote blue-light blocking sunglasses, but I love it, because I support the person, the person who is trying to stay top of mind and make a living.
I want them to make a living, but I don’t want my time to be wasted. And yet, that’s all that social media is. What to do?
Well, like so so so so so many people, you might play the video while you’re doing laundry, or writing yourself, or making dinner, or using the bathroom. You’re literally stealing my life, but I like you. Eff it, let’s play the game. Here’s a like, here’s a comment. I watched it on 2x because I don’t like you enough to fully commit, but I would watch it at regular speed, without any distractions, if I knew it wasn’t just content. (I don’t do this, but I imagine many do) And after I’ve commented, I constantly check to see if I’ve received feedback on my positive acknowledgement of their offering. Oh, I got a like. I got a heart. OMG, I got a comment. “Thanks, so much!” The dopamine hit is incredible. Here is a person that I watch that actually interacted with me. Me! I’ve had a positive effect on the world. We’re friends now. But are we?
Conceive, produce, publish, engage, repeat.
You get a dopamine hit when someone likes or comments. That person gets a hit when you like and comment back. It’s a cycle in which you’re both drug dealers, and users.
But going back to double-think, you the consumer, know that eventually you’ll need their services, or they’ll release their first / next book, and you’ll be there, because they’ve kept you there, engaged by the content that both of you know is false, but necessary. It almost sounds positive. Positive manipulation. But it’s still manipulation.
Maybe you love watching young women authors get ready in the morning. They make their machas, put on their faces for the day, and sit down to write for thirty minutes before going to the gym or meeting friends for a character arc gab session. Maybe you’re a young woman yourself, and maybe you like that. Maybe you want that in your future. To live the dream. No suffering, all ease.
Or maybe you’re someone who is new to it all and is desperate to find the winning formula. A way to make it all happen without having to reinvent the wheel. Please, god, just tell me what I need to do to be in the club.
There are peddlers out there for both of you. They want you to watch. They’re desperate for it. They have to stay monetized. They need the views and engagement, and mutual masturbation to feel alive, and stay alive. It’s not a lot of money, but one day. Oh, one day…
What’s my effing point?
If you’re a writer, and presumably you are, it’s completely understandable for you to say “screw all of this pointless nonsense. I’m done” one day, and watch a bunch of hour-long videos on aesthetic office makeovers or the top eight things to consider when starting your novel, the next.
Don’t beat yourself up. It’s all bullshit. Everyone knows it.
Bookmark the actual pages for the services you may need in the future (dev editors, book coaches, etc), and periodically check in on the authors / future authors whose projects you are actually interested in. They’ll still be there. I promise. Regain your time. Regain your sanity. Write. Just write.
Be sure to follow me on youtube for um… Sci-fi Crime Thrillers, or whatever.

I really enjoyed this piece, Ian. Lately, I’ve been grappling with the thought that I need to balance the content I consume and make sure it’s not absolute trash. What we consume, we become (similarly to what we eat, we become—even who/what we surround ourselves). I love supporting content creators, and I also have to keep in mind that if they don’t follow any of my values, then why the hell am I consuming their stuff?
Such an interesting take. I appreciate you asking us the reason why we make/consume content. As a creator I feel pressed to post endlessly even when I have nothing to say. Instead, I want to focus on posting things. I enjoy not just to stay relevant in the algorithm. I had this problem on instagram. It was actually discouraging at first and then I realized I don't really like posting that short form content.